


heaven, take me into your skies

by mochacreams



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Devil May Cry 5 (Game), Devil May Cry 5 Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Gentle Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Literal Sleeping Together, Post-Devil May Cry 5, Post-Game(s), Relationship Study, Reunions, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sleep Deprivation, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochacreams/pseuds/mochacreams
Summary: after the chaos, the lovers reunite.
Relationships: Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32





	heaven, take me into your skies

**Author's Note:**

> pretend i'm not a day late for valentine's

In a faded tone like a drifting spectre, there are two words that ring out through the soft lamplight: "Welcome home."

It's so late by now, when everything's settled and the traveling is done, that the cobalt skies have shifted to a rosewater shade, and the moon is setting past the horizon to make way for Apollo's chariot.

She hasn't slept since he had hung up that payphone, he knows; the way she's huddled on the couch in an eggshell-colored blanket and with a mug of steaming chamomile tells him that much. Her face, though, gives no indication of insomnia, serene as ever with a calm, twinkling beam lifting her lips up at the sight of him. 

Wordless, with only a fair smile blooming and softening the rough, jagged lines of his features, he closes the door behind him and sits.

—And is swiftly enveloped by her warmth and white silken nightgown as she sets her tea aside. It is as if she had been waiting this whole time for the mere physical contact of him to reassure her, because the instant she touches his battered and bruised body the sweetest breath releases and makes her go limp in his arms.

Holding her up like a pillar of marble, there's nowhere he'd rather be than with Kyrie tracing lazy circles and hearts along the width of his back, humming familiar classical tunes into the crook of his neck.

He wants to pepper a million apologies into her cheek like angel kisses, but he knows full well she would be hard-pressed to even consider accepting those mewling pleas.

( _"Shhh—there's nothing to be sorry for,"_ she'd whisper like the elegant song of a dove at dawn, and he would believe the resolve in her tone.)

Instead, he offers, "Yeah… I'm home."

 _Tired_. He sounds tired. How she can sound so composed despite forcing herself to stay up is beyond him. Her poised voice never betrays her true exhaustion once. 

"That's what's most important," she replies, as if reading his mind. He adores that about her; she always knows just what to say, at the most perfect moment, flushing all of his worries away. "You're safe and sound now, Nero."

She pulls away first, palms still cupping his shoulders. Her soft eyes drift down, taking in his form, until—

"—Oh! Your arm!"

He has a right arm again: A fact that hits him again in this second. It almost makes him dizzy just thinking about the circumstances. The flesh is warm with fine silvery hairs, and Kyrie drops her hand to touch it feebly, stroking along the muscles of his bicep and then forearm.

"It's a real kind of miracle, that's what you're going to say." And Nero brings those freshly-minted fingers up to brush her bangs aside fondly (the rest collected in a side-braid, the style she often drew her hair into before bed), nuzzling his nose against her forehead briefly. 

Her cheeks are rosy after that.

"You been holding up alright?" he continues after a beat, pulling her forward against his chest, resting his chin upon the smooth tufts of hair on her head. The last thing he could stand was knowing he'd caused her any sort of pain.

She nods, and he feels the motion. His arms tighten the embrace.

He adds to the question, "And the kids?"

"They're well," she admits, with a rising lilt of happiness in her tone. "They'll be so excited to see you…" Her voice is still quiet and distant, like she's speaking from miles at sea, though it is... _relieved_. "But I didn't want to wake them so early. It'll have to wait until breakfast-time." 

"That might not be too far away at this rate..." Nero remarks it as his gaze drifts toward the den's window, tall glass panes with bright orange light filtering in. It makes Kyrie giggle against his Adam's apple, her hand raising to play with the folded collar fabric of his jacket.

"You should at least try to rest a little before then, though," she chides in that maternal tone of hers—usually only reserved for when the children are too busy playing and won't come to the table for dinner when they're called. "You need as much as you can get."

"Only if you sleep, too." He drives a hard bargain, standing firm on the condition. Always thinking of how hard she works, equally, at the household—she probably warrants more than him at this point. 

It takes a short time of pondering before she eventually concedes. "Mmm, alright. Together." That makes some heat spark up in his pale face, coloring his cheeks finely pink. It's too good to be true. All of this is entirely too exquisite.

There had been certain molten chocolate words he hadn't been able to say over the phone—even now, he finds himself unable to regret that decision. It hadn't been the right time then, during that unsure, melancholy moment at the peak of the Qliphoth rebuilding his resolve. Now, though, as Kyrie slowly drags herself out from between his wrapped arms and adjusts her throw-blanket so they can share, he knows the time is perfect. 

"Kyrie…" She looks up at him with a hum on her lips at the sound of her name. His stomach toils and twists, but he blinks at once and stares into those glimmering irises and suddenly the anxiety fizzles out.

"Nero? What is it?" Her voice drips with concern, so he places his hefty palm halfway between her chin and her cheekbone in a caress.

Thumbing the corner of her mouth lightly, he can't help but get lost in it all. His lips are set in a line, but his eyes show fondness. "...Hey, you know how much I love you, right?"

The words pour out with purpose, and for once he doesn't avert his glance. Doesn't falter in the slightest bit. 

Their gazes stay locked, and Kyrie flusters for a split-second before beaming warmly. "O-Of course, Nero! I love you, too…"

At that, he can't help it—a smile teases Nero's lips, too, small but with meaning. He tilts her face upward, and cranes his neck down slowly. She draws a breath and holds it, her supple lips pursed, and he presses his chapped ones against them. Time doesn't seem to pass as it should, as if he's stuck frozen, like this moment is painted as a fresco on church walls. Kyrie is tender even when she kisses him, steady and chaste and careful—never too bold. Neither presses too hard in the opposite direction. He can taste the honey and bitterness of her tea still left lingering in her mouth.

When they pull apart at last, Nero sees a whole galaxy of stars in her eyes, gazing upon his face with the cutest little expression she can muster. The broad grin on his face must make him look so hopelessly in-love. He blushes wildly when reality pulls him back, and she giggles when he turns his head away.

"Goodnight, dear," she says to break the mellow, lovely silence, and then snuggles up next to him. Only when she pulls the blanket over him and flits her eyes shut does he look back at her again, his heart finally finding a beat of calm after all the battles and fighting throughout the day.

There are too many other things he still has to tell her about when the sun rises fully at dawn; but for now, as Kyrie falls peacefully into her slumber against his side, he is content.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in an afternoon so let me know if there are any errors *breakdances*
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/togeklssu)   
>  [buy me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/mochacreams)


End file.
